The Unread
by Ankle Deep
Summary: "It began when we were caught, as most things do: you can go on forever doing whatever you want, but as soon as you get caught? That's when things happen." What if VA went differently? After finding an old copy of the book, Rose finds out. AU RxD
1. 1: So Close

**A/N: Ok, the main gist of this story is an alternate story to the original Vampire Academy, when Rose Hathaway finds a battered copy of VA and reads what could have happened, and compares it to now. Hope you like it – the story will evolve over time so hang in there!**

The Unread  
Chapter One: So Close

It began when we were caught, as most things do: you can go on forever doing whatever you want, but as soon as you get caught? That's when things happen.

We had been hiding out in Portland, Lissa and I, in one of those University colleges where everyone is a number and you can get a house to yourself if you know how to rub the officials the right way. This suited us just fine, you don't exactly want to get recognised when you're on the run from crazy vampire who want to capture your best friend and do god-knows-what to you for punishment. But, I digress, because in the end we did get caught, and no University safe house could change that. To think we were so close to getting away, to have it all ripped apart. It gives the term 'so close yet so far' a new dimension, let me tell you.

We had just finished a feeding, and I was a little bit tipsy as a result. I let my guard down, you could say, and now that I think of it maybe that was the reason they could sneak up on us so easily. The night was cold, fresh and clear, but dark, with the streetlights providing spaces of brightness where nothing was missed – we could see anyone coming up that street from a mile away. We felt safe, and for that reason also we were at our most vulnerable. There I go, speaking out of the hand book. I was trained well, until we left.

And yes, there was a reason! It wasn't just a mad Hathaway split-second we-need-to-get-out-of-here decision, there was reasoning behind it. Yeah, I was sick to death of that school and their bureaucratic systems and backstabbing royals. Sure, the parties were fun, but if Lissa and I stayed there much longer _one_ of us was going to going insane. One guess on who that person would be. So with Mrs. Karp's cryptic advice imprinted firmly on my frontal lobes, we left. Maybe if I could see the future I would have stayed for a little longer.

Ugh, I ramble too much. Maybe if it were Lissa writing this it would have gone for longer, but at least she would have used better prose than me. So, I was tipsy, off in my little world, down the road of no return, whatever. I didn't hear their footsteps until they reached the front door, even with my supposed 'super' hearing, and by then it was too late. Ten guardians from the Academy fully kitted out with their black gear and even a silver stake. Each. What were they thinking they were going to use them for? We weren't Strigoi for Vladimir's sake! I shrank into a corner, out of sight, went to get Lissa, who was in the next room.

I felt a familiar rage close over me as I stood up, teetering slightly and dizzy from loss of blood. I was eager to get up and protect Lissa, but I wasn't thinking straight. I took a couple of deep breaths to calm myself. They didn't know I was here yet, we could get away fast. No need to panic. I decided then that I wasn't going to be irrational and cliché about it either. I wasn't going to ask them what they were doing here, because I knew. I wasn't going to stand and fight because that was a sure fire way to get killed. I was just going to get Lissa and our wallets, and leave. We didn't have a getaway car, but we did have pedal bikes, and even though I had laughed at Lissa when she had suggested buying them, they were silent, cheap and untraceable, plus I could ride one faster than any Dhamphir could run.  
I didn't get further than the door.

We were surrounded in seconds as the creaking door alerted them to our presence. I said a word that, in any different circumstances, would have caused Lissa to admonish me. Just because it was not that kind of circumstance I said it a few more times, then, dragging Lissa by the hand, ran for our lives out of the house. We made it to the bikes and started up the path towards the train station. I was constantly looking back, and, of course, they were right on our tail. If we could just get on a different train, to anywhere, then we would be okay. I wasn't running away, as such, just protecting Lissa for as long as I could. With those nightmares ... she depended on me so much, but I could never be sure if I could be there for her.

We were at the last street now. We were almost there, but so were they. A short, athletic type ran up behind us and used is stake to puncture the tire on Lissa's bike. _Well, at least he has points for creativity, _I thought, but now he was going to meet my buddies – persuasion and reason. Man I loved those guys. As Lissa's bike swerved I jumped off mine and turned to face our pursuers. Forget what I said about irrationality – these buckos were going to pay. Oh great, now I was being cliché as well. Can my day (or night) get any worse?

I realised my mistake when I caught sight of the leader of our little hunting party. He was really, really, tall, and muscled, with brown hair, eyes and a long coat which brushed the tarmac as he ran, swiftly and fluidly, up to me. I didn't stand a chance – in the time it took to notice that he was as hot as he was tall he had come up to me and pinned my hands behind me back. I struggled, of course, and with the pre-dawn light to see by I managed to score a hit on his shin, but he barely seemed to notice. I shouted to Lissa to run, but she also was restrained by the short boy – no, a girl with short hair and _molnija_ marks - who had her in a vice like grip. There was no chance, until Lissa looked the girl straight in the eyes.

"Now, you're all going to let me go now, and step away from me and Rose. I'll give you ten seconds to move, starting with you." Here she stared at the woman holding her, and her eyes glazed slowly over. "_Ten._" I could not believe this. Lissa, who was angelic in every way, was using compulsion on ten guardians at once, forcing them to bend to her will. She knew it was wrong, but she was still using it, stripping the ability to think form the assembled guardians, one by one, with each number she spoke. Her face was cruelly blank, I didn't recognise her anymore. This was too much like something I had seen before ... "_Nine."_ The short guardian had stepped away, and so had the one behind her. This was making me sick inside.

"Lissa, stop it. Come on, you don't need to do this. Let's go, come on." I just needed her to stop for a second, then she would be back to herself, I hoped.  
"I can't Rose. It's the only way. We can't go back there now. It's my time to protect you, and I can do it, no one needs get hurt. _Eight_." Another guardian dropped his stake.  
"Stop, Princess. We need to take you to the Academy, where you'll be safe, it's not safe here anymore. Rose can stay, we have no need for her and her mother is already contacted, but you need to come with us." It was the tall brown-coated guy, and I noticed a faint Russian accent to his words which made sense for a guardian but was no use to me.  
"Hey, Russian Guy." I tilted my head upwards so he would know who was talking to him. "Why don't you shut up? You're just making it worse."

Lissa was still counting. "_Seven._ I suggest you all leave now, or I will make you leave."He voice was calm, ice cold and completely soulless.  
_"Six."_ Another guardian down.  
_"Five."  
"Four."  
_"_Three."_ Two to go, we were nearly free.  
_"Two."_

And the last was the Russian. He stood without fear, still holding me. I would bet my bike that he had a high resistance to compulsion, but that wasn't going to stop Lissa.  
"Last chance, you can leave now or they'll find you in the morning."  
He just stood there, holding me firm as I struggled still and cursed him under my breath. Then slowly, glacially, he loosened his grip. I ducked out instantly and ran to Lissa, who was shaking with fear and exhaustion, my touch snapping her out of her trance. She murmured indecipherable things, leaning heavily against me as we backed away from the Russian and slipped into the night.

My last view of him was of his back, his brown coat dusted with dirt and his sliver stake gleaming in the morning light.


	2. 2: Defence is the Best Offence

**A/N: Thanks so much for your reviews everyone! I love to hear what you think of it, it really makes my day to hear from you. If you want, you can check out some of my other stories, but they're more rudimentary than this one. The one I would really recommend is Wish Upon a Star, co-written with Badass Hathaway. Enjoy, and keep those reviews coming!**

The Unread  
Chapter Two: Defence is the Best Offence

We had run all night, but now we could run no more. Thanks to the hole in Lissa's bike I let (well, made) her ride on mine while I ran beside her, until the morning light was too strong for Lissa to continue further. After that we camped out at the train station, got on the train to LA (which was as far as we could go without crossing over) and sat, waiting. It was then that the memories and experiences of the night caught up to me, rushing through my head like a flood – insurmountable, unstoppable.

Why had she done it? It was like she was possessed, a different person and that scared me. Then again, I guess I had changed a bit too; being all responsible and having Lissa take action instead of me. And taking deep breaths? _Calming down_? All this being-on-the-run stuff must have been getting to me, but obviously not as much as it was to Lissa. She hadn't said a single thing until the showdown in Portland and her face was drawn and paler than usual. It was like she was under a trance, and I'm sure that if I could know what she was feeling she would be as confused as I was about her actions.

It was all so hard, but I knew things could have been worse, so I stayed quiet until we came two stops from Nashville, Tennessee where we stepped onto the platform into a cloudy, misted autumn day. When we were safely off into a side street Lissa finally got up the courage to confide in me. I knew it was only a matter of time, but it took longer than usual after what had happened.

"Rose ... I'm so sor – " I cut her off as she collapsed into me, her muddied blouse, now more brown than white, wet with tears.  
"Its okay Liss, it's over now. I don't know why you did it, but it's over. "There was so much that was unspoken in those sentences, but I think Lissa understood. I fingered the rose necklace around my neck absentmindedly after Lissa's sobs had quieted down. The pretty gold and ruby pendant was given to me by Prince Victor Dashkov nearly two and a half years ago, soon after the accident that left Lissa the last of her kind. She had also been given one, with a platinum chain and blue topaz in the shape of a forget-me-not, which was a constant, if slightly painful reminder of what we had left behind. Well I wasn't sorry, and I liked my necklace - it went with pretty much every outfit.

But now it was over with, we had to get out of sight. It was only a matter of time before the Russian guy came after us, and by now he would be p****d (rhymes with hissed) off. We found a hostel and checked in for the night. I was sure it wouldn't be long before we would have to sell the necklaces, maybe for university entry fees, but it would be a stretch. We would have to be running further and faster than this to escape from the Academy completely. It was far from over.

We spent a week like that, in hiding. We didn't speak to anyone besides ourselves, didn't engage with others and never looked a person in the eye on the street, not that we were on it very often. We cut ourselves off; we didn't want to be discovered. I don't think either of us would have had the strength to fight them again. Lissa especially, all of that compulsion had taken its toll on her and she burst into tears a few times every day. She was an emotional train wreck, and I was struggling to be the strong one, to keep it together. I like to think I succeeded, but on the last day of our stay, a Friday, everything came apart.

We had checked out of our square-inch hotel room at eight o'clock and were making our way down a side-street to an ATM where we could hopefully withdraw enough of her inheritance to make another real life somewhere, out of America if necessary. Liss had done the research, we could go anywhere within the borders and chances are the guardians or at least the Psi Hounds could get us at any time. But if we used fake names and spent some money on a new hair style or two we could pass unnoticed and board a plane. Overseas the hounds could never trace us, and the Royals couldn't exactly let them in an airport, so ... it was perfect. Defence is the best offence, after all.

So as we were edging down this side-street towards freedom I spotted something that made my heart sink deeper than the Titanic on a good day. Here was my iceberg now, complete with that typical brown leather duster (yes, Lissa had Googled it). Mr Russian Guy was back, but on his own this time. He must have been scoping out the territory, one of the first tricks we learnt as guardians back at the academy. The catchphrase for this was 'make it your own home turf.' Pretty much say it all, doesn't it? If you know the place you're fighting at, know every escape route and place to hide, you're that much closer to winning.

But if he scoped us out than it was all over, so I urged Lissa into a dark alleyway and told her the situation. At least she wasn't going to compel him – even if she'd wanted to I was right when I bet he had a high resistance to it. We crept around the street corner and went towards the bank. At least if he grabbed us in there he would be dealt with accordingly. But there would be a lot of questions ... oh well, best just to avoid him. It was night-time; he couldn't pull anything serious without the police patrols being onto him in a second. Of course, a 911 call from yours truly wouldn't hurt.

That plan worked right up until we came to the ATM. Lissa had memorised the PIN number and we had withdrawn enough to keep us in air fares to Washington then make some other transactions. Lissa had planned this part to perfection – I was only in charge when there was violence involved, and now that my feeding induced endorphin rush was over I was looking forward to some action on what would be a very boring trip otherwise. In my mind, taking out the Russian Hathaway-style would definitely brighten my day. But Lissa's safety was more important that my Russian guy vendetta, so I held myself back.

That is, until he appeared from behind and, clamping two hands over our mouths, took Lissa and escaped into the night.  
Oh, he was going to get it now.

**A/N: Well, that's it for now! I'm not going to be writing every day, it's up to how many reviews I get how much I write. Please review! - AD**


	3. 3: Just Because He's Russian

The Unread  
Chapter Three: Just Because He's Russian

At first I just ran.  
And ran and ran and ran because what else was I supposed to do? I didn't stop to think, because duh, I'm Rose Hathaway, crasher of parties and (soon to be) killer of Russian guys, and also because every moment I wasn't running Lissa was getting further away, as did my chances of catching up to her. I sure wasn't going to gain any ground be standing still, that's for sure. I did have time to admire the Russian guy while I was running, however, mostly because I needed to find the weak spot in his perfect build, so as to better kick his scrawny Russian butt when I got to him. Which, as I kept repeatedly telling myself as I manoeuvred the subway tracking Lissa's scent, would be _soon_.

Not that I didn't hate him, of course I did. He had managed to simultaneously make a huge idiot out of me and steal Lissa away without a trace. Well, besides her scent, which I now knew from a mile away – Chanel No5. So when the floral taste of Chanel disappeared from my mouth, you can understand how much of a kill the Russian mood I was in. I stood at the edge of some state forest reserve that lay behind a river I had found when running, which at least explained the sudden off-cut of Chanel to my nose – any stretch of water numbed any scent, however distinctive. Whoever he was, this guy would have to have been experienced, a mentor at least. I mean, it's not as though I was looking in the wrong direction or anything ... he had me in the perfect place.

I couldn't keep running any longer, and as soon as I stopped the feelings I had suppressed caught up to me and hit me like a freight train directly to my solar plexus. I was Lissa's guardian. I was supposed to protect her from anything, the one she could depend on to keep her safe, and I had failed. There was nothing worse, and, really, there was no one else but me to blame.

It hurt to think like this, but it was the truth, and I wasn't really in a position to be lying to myself.

But now there was a decision to be made. Should I go on? Or wait until I get some sense into my head? Ha! As if there was ever a decision! Lurching forward with new resolve in my mind, I went to plunge into the forest. It was all going to be ok; I would catch up to Liss and give Mr. Russian a piece of my mind, and then leave him unconscious just because he was Russian. I would make it, and it would be soon. And it was, right up until a blinding pain pulled me to the ground, immobile with pain.

Yet another mistake for the list today: while I was standing still contemplating the meaning of life and Russian guys my legs, which had taken me so far in my search for Lissa, had instantly stiffened up and would take me no farther. I collapsed in a heap and didn't budge, though my mind was buzzing with pain and snippets of academy health class. Judging from previous injuries with this same outcome, resulting from me forgetting the basic lessons over and over again, it would take at least three hours to completely heal, and anything more would almost definitely end in a hamstring tear, a six week set back which I could not afford. So I was in for the night, with nothing to protect me but my strapless top and jeans. That, children, is what you get for rushing off without thinking – my whole situation just screams _don't try this at home_, doesn't it?

Now, I didn't want to dwell too much on a guy I hated but ... you know ... just because he's Russian ... I cursed him a few more times, then settled in for the night right where I was standing, at the fringe of the forest. I couldn't move for the pain in my legs, the cold biting at my shoulders and my conscience screaming at my heart. Once it began to get dark the thick fog of unconsciousness began to creep up behind me, until the world became monochrome. All the pain drifted away and my head begun to nod and my eyes closed.

The last thing I saw before I sank into sleep was a sentence, in blood red letters, floating in front of me in the gloom. It stood out with some meaning, and I strained to make it out through the haze of sleep. More sentences appeared, and I panicked, wanting to know what the words meant, _needing _to know. And finally, it did, fragments floating in my mind like a summer breeze. I tried to read it, to make it make sense.

_Lissa Dragomir is a Moroi princess ... She must be protected at all times from Strigoi ... human and vampire blood ... Rose Hathaway is a Dhamphir ... dedicated to a dangerous life of protecting Lissa ..._

It was true. All true. Was this my subconsciousness telling me something?

_After two years of illicit freedom, Rose and Lissa are caught and dragged back to St. Vladimir's Academy, hidden in the deep forests of Montana ..._

Wait. This wasn't right. Only Lissa was caught, I was still here!

_Fear made Lissa and Rose run away from St. Vladimir's-but their world is fraught with danger both inside and out of the Academy's iron gates. Here, the cutthroat ranks of the Moroi perform unspeakable rituals and their secretive nature and love of the night creates an enigmatic world full of social complexities. Rose and  
Lissa must navigate through  
this dangerous world, confront the temptation of forbidden romance, and never once let their guard down, lest the Strigoi make Lissa one of them forever..._

I shivered, even in the midst of sleep. I wanted it to go away. I wanted it to be unread.  
That was not going to happen.

**A/N: Yeah ... I haven't been updating in a while, but that's what you get when you don't review! Please, tell me what you think. Read, love, review!  
-AD**


	4. 4: Blame It on the Morning

The Unread  
Chapter Four: Blame It on the Morning

_I felt her fear before I heard her screams._

They were the first words I saw when I woke up, their shaky afterimage hovering in my sight, like looking into the sun too long. My cheek was pressed to something square and hard, and I was sure it would leave and imprint where it mattered. Damn, now I couldn't go out for another day. Not that I could get up in the first place. Do you know how much I hated health class until now? A hell of a lot, especially as it continued to remind me of my own stupidity. It was the second rule! The one that was hammered into me from kindergarten – if you run fast, don't let your legs stiffen up. You are stuck wherever for as long as it takes to heal. Want to know what the first rule was? _Never leave the one you guard. _Yeah, I'd broken that one too.

So I was here for another day, immobile, with nothing but my shorts and tank-top to cover me, and this weird square thing as my guide. Looks like it would be an interesting day. _Not_. Seeing as I would be in for a long day I pondered the meaning of the sentences I saw last night and now, more recently, this morning for a brief time. I felt her fear ... how could someone feel fear that belonged to someone else? And anyway, fear was not a luxury I could afford most of the time, but who said it was my sentence anyway? My head was clouded with new thoughts; so many that I could barely string them together. Ugh, I was so not a morning person.

The morning light was getting stronger, and I shuffled through the pain to a place nearer to the bordering forest where I could get some shade. As I was going along I finally caught sight of the square thing that I had been sleeping on all night. It was mostly black, with red words imprinted in a square paragraph shape spanning from about three centimetres around the edge of the square. It was around then I realised stupidly that it was a book, of course. If Lissa was there I'm sure she would have given me a face-palm by now. I could only imagine my stupid face as I stared quizzically at what was quite obviously a black book with a red blurb telling of its insides. Hey, I just blamed it on the morning.

I reached out and grabbed the book – it was fairly thick and paper backed, but despite this it seemed new – and (very un-Rose like) I hesitated. How did it get there? Did it have anything to do with the mysterious sentences that had appeared to me last night? But then my impulsiveness kicked in (a little late if you ask me, but I blamed it on the morning) and I went to read the blurb, which was facing up from the dirt, a weed poking in between the bottom pages. So it had been here for a while, but didn't have a fingerprint on it, and it wasn't dirty. Hmmm. As I was reading, I was struck by something familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on it. It was then that two words jumped off the cover at me.  
_Lissa Dragomir. _

No. Beeping. Way.

It all came rushing back to me then, and I imagined a spark growing in my eyes like in those corny detective movies when the annoyingly obvious truth seeps into the thick skulls of the characters, just in time. The hovering red words, standing out against the black background of what I thought was my mind, but was just the cover of the book through my exhausted eyes. The prediction they made – about Liss being a Moroi and me dedicated to protecting her. Right about the Strigoi that were always on our tail, and the guardians who wanted us back just as much as the Strigoi did. Right about our whole lives up until Lissa had decided to compel the guardians to her will and we escaped. Until that one stubborn Russian decided to come back. Why now! Couldn't the world wait for a couple of days to give me something this big, when I had Lissa back? Stupid morning, I blamed the time of day.

And yet, it was more the stuff that didn't happen that scared me. No, not scared, worried, Rose Hathaway didn't get scared. I had seen the words last night, and the last words said ... that Lissa and I were captured together and taken back to that hell-hole, the Academy. And the supposed cutthroat ranks of Moroi performing unspeakable rituals ... I had never heard of anything like that happening. The worst I knew of Moroi getting was a pack of party crazy popular girls, and while that was a force of its own I wouldn't exactly call _those_ rituals unspeakable. But still. I had this gut feeling that there wouldn't just be this random book about my life if it wasn't true. There was a slight chance that some writer somewhere just happened to make up a character that was the same person as me, but it was even less likely to have Lissa and the Academy in the same place. Okay, so maybe that was just common sense, but the words of the blurb remained a mystery to me, so I turned over to look at the front cover, to see if anything lay there.

And there, in red format and staring flirtatiously over her shoulder and her dark hair flipped around, was me. The photo looked recent, and it was engraved into the laminated cover like it had been printed there, not just stuck on. A photo of me on a book about me ... how did this happen? Who wrote this? I scanned the bottom half of the page but there was nothing there, nothing to show for this book that told of things that had and hadn't happened. And maybe ... maybe things that were going to happen, too. That was the only remaining explanation now. I was all out of excuses for this little bundle of weirdness that was this book. This book called ... I looked down, hoping at least the title of the book was there, and there it was, in red gothic type with its own true symbol and everything.

_Vampire Academy_. I blamed it on the morning.

**A/N: Sorry I haven't updated in a while ... I was busy. And I'm not exactly feeling the love from you reviewers! I hoped my silence would prod you into reviewing, but now I have had no choice but to leave you with a cliffy. Ha! That'll teach you. Now please ... I need to know what you guys think of this all. I try to write, and when I get no reviews then I can't write. Find it in your hearts. Review.  
- AD  
PS. I'm now doing story recommendations. If you want me to put a small advertisement in here for others to read then PM me or send a review with the story, author and a small summary. **

**Today's Story Recommendation:  
Romeo Belikov by random-friend  
When Dimitri comes back from a surprise trip to Russia Rose notices something's up. Suddenly he's no longer strong and silent; he's serenading her with love songs and chucking pebbles at her dorm windows. Dimitri's gone corny! Will Rose ever get back the man she loves?**


	5. Some Notice

**Some Notice:  
Yeah, as you can see I've been away for a while, and have been unable to write – schools getting hard with assignments, homework, tests, you name it. I will be writing soon, and I am grateful to all of your reviews so far, but if I don't get reviews than I can't take the time to write, so feel free to review with ideas, criticism and anything else.  
Please take the time out of your day to review, so I can take the time out of mine.  
~ Ankle Deep  
**


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